


december 21st: heal these broken bones

by watergator



Series: december fic advent 2019 [21]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Broken Bones, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: prompt: crutchesdan ends up with a broken leg
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: december fic advent 2019 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559341
Comments: 7
Kudos: 130





	december 21st: heal these broken bones

This can’t actually be happening.

This can’t actually be  _ fucking _ happening right now.

He’s laying on his back looking up at the grey and dismal sky above him. It seems so far away from down here, clouds feel like they’re floating up and away from him as he lays here and feels the hard asphalt dig into his back.

His palms are stinging. That’s all he can feel.

Maybe it is really happening if he can feel the pain there, but everywhere else feels numb, and he’s unconvinced as he lays there and steadies his breath.

He’s too afraid to get up. Mainly because he’s afraid that if he tries then he won’t physically be able to get up.

He’s desperate to just crane his neck and check himself over. But he knows he has to stay still. He doesn’t want to risk doing something awful to himself by moving his neck for a split second.

He has visions of snapped vertebrae and spinal cords that make him cringe, squeezing his eyes shut as if to make the pictures behind his eyelids disappear.

When he opens them there’s a woman leaning over him.

He brown hair is halo’d around her face like some strange angel, and Dan wonders if he’s maybe possibly died. She looks worried and concerned and it’s a face that strongly resembles his own mothers.

He thinks back to when he once heard that once you were dying, your brain would use up some of its energy in creating some kind of fantasy; something to make you feel at ease. He’s not sure if his mum is something he’d have at the top of the list as things to see before he dies but he guesses he’s not got much choice here anyway.

He realises her lips are moving, her brows are knitted tightly together as she talks to him, and it takes Dan a moment to register that he needs to pay attention.

“—gonna be okay? Just don’t move.”

Dan doesn’t want to move. And he’s sure she’s only trying to keep him calm but the panic mode button in his brain is being dangerously teased right now.

The woman looks pale and sickly almost. Dan wouldn’t blame her; he’d probably look the same after seeing someone just get hurtled through the air after being hit by a car on the middle of a Tuesday afternoon.

Or maybe she hadn’t seen it happen, and she’s perhaps reacting to the mess that his body might be in. 

His stomach flips and he tries not to think about it.

He’s sure he’s dead. Everything around him is silent and all he can hear is his own steady and slow breathing. He hopes if this is actually hell, that he’ll soon be able to get up off this cold, horribly hard and wet floor.

Then again, hell probably would want the exact opposite of that.

*

It turns out he isn’t actually dead and very much alive.

He realises this when the ambulance arrives and he’s being strapped into a giant orange body brace.

The jostle him around and he makes a very real whimper of pain, and then a very real needle is digging into the back of his hand and a very real spot of blood clots there, making him more alive than he thought just mere minutes ago

The ambulance crew is kind enough to tell him that he’s in safe hands and it’s going to be okay and that he’s doing really well.

He’s never understood why they say that: he’s not doing anything. How can he be doing well if he’s not even doing anything except laying here and letting his body accept the shitload of drugs he’s on right now.

They make it to the hospital and he’s passed from the paramedics to a load of doctors and nurses that swarm him.

As he watches the grey sky disappear and the white, bright ceiling of the hospital bursts into his vision along with the loudness of the hospital with the many voices coming in from all angles, it all becomes a bit too real.

He feels his heart pick up rate against his chest as he’s being pushed along in the stretcher. He can’t move. He’s stuck inside this big, stupid, orange block and he can’t even move his tongue to speak.

The doctor that’s by his head must sense his panic, or maybe he can see the deep rise and fall, Dan doesn’t know, but he’s being spoken to, asking him questions like,

“Do you remember your name?”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Can you tell me the year and the name of our current prime minister?”

Dan answers all questions, the last one a little more reluctantly and it makes the doctor laugh a little bit as he’s wheeled into a room.

“We’re gonna get your notes, make some calls and we’ll have you in for scans and tests in no time.”

Dan thanks him and watches as he leaves. He’s still strapped down and the nurse he’s been left with assures him it’s all a safety procedure and that everything will be okay again soon.

*

He has the scans, has a couple of x-rays and he’s fine.

Asides from the snapped bone in his left leg, everything is seemingly alright, insanely enough, and he’s told he’s very lucky that he’s gotten away with nothing more serious, as if being hit by a car was his fault in the first place. 

He simply grits his teeth and forces himself to smile.

Phil arrives, finally, just as they’re explaining that he’ll need pins in his leg and a cast for a month.

Phil’s face is pale and Dan has to tell him to sit down in fear he might end up passing out.

*

He’s scheduled for surgery and given a bed and room and told to buzz if they need anything. Phil paces the room a few times, asking over and over again if he’s okay, if he’s comfortable and if they need to call for a nurse for whatever reason his brain is telling him.

Dan answers with yes, yes and no.

Phil doesn’t look so sure and Dan tells him a fifth time to just sit down and shut up and let him get some rest.

That, Phil can do.

*

He goes into surgery with a flutter of anxiety in his stomach and a touch of pain, and wakes up feeling floaty as well as metal in his leg.

He’s allowed back home with strict instructions of staying inside, keeping well rested (which Dan knows he won’t find any trouble doing) alongside a fuck load of drugs and pills and prescriptions and a pair of crutches to help him.

Phil is extra cautious as they leave the hospital and helps him into the taxi even though Dan insists that he’s  _ fine _ and he can do it. Even when his palms go sweaty and his good leg feels weak and shaky, he’s determined to prove him wrong as he ducks into the car and practically throws himself in, despite the pain.

When they eventually get home Dan feels like he’s somehow ran a thousand mile marathon; his body aches and he feels so tired despite spending the last day mostly asleep anyway.

“It’s just your body trying to heal,” Phil tells him as he hands him his glass of water and a little pill on his palm. It’s supposed to help ease the pain and when he swallows it down with a grimace, he’s hoping it’s going to start working soon.

His leg is heavy and cumbersome with the giant cast attached to it, and Phil pushes the little ottoman towards him where Dan can rest his leg.

The TV is playing but it’s on such a low volume that Dan can’t quite focus on. He tilts his head back and lets his eyes slip shut as he waits for the little pill disperse into his bloodstream and work its magic.

*

They sleep in separate beds. 

Dan’s cast is heavy and big and he’s too afraid of Phil’s constant flailing around to knock of jostle him awake, when all he wants and needs right now is sleep.

Phil happily complies and once he’s ready for bed, he listens to the sound of Phil in the next room over make an attempt at putting fresh bed sheets on the spare bed they rarely have to use anyone. He’s making some questionable grunting sounds that make Dan laugh but he must manage it because soon after he comes back into the room to kiss him goodnight and ask for the billionth time if he needs anything to which Dan replies with a breathy laugh that he’s fine, and demands Phil to just go to bed.

He does once he gets another kiss, and then another after that.

*

Dan wakes in a sweat. There’s a scream trapped in his chest and his heart is pounding against his chest. His arm flies out on instinct only to remember that Phil isn’t sleeping in here tonight and panic makes him wish that maybe he had been.

There’s a burst of light that has Dan squinting his eyes until they’ve adjusted, and it’s then that he notices Phil stood in the doorway, just in his pants, glasses on his nose and hair a mess looking wildly concerned as Dan sits and stares at him.

And then, he begins to cry.

*

Dan takes a sip of his hot chocolate. It’s extra sweet, just the way he likes it. Phil is so good at making hot chocolates, he could actually make a career out of it if he wanted to. Although, Dan rather quite likes having that one special skill kept for himself and no one else.

It’s the dead of night and they’re sat on the couch. There a blanket over his legs, it bumps out from where his cast is and Dan stares at it with narrow eyes.

“Was it scary?” Phil’s voice is quiet, cutting through the silence.

Dan turns his head to look at him. He’s chewing on his lip, his face is creasing with concern and Dan wishes he could just maybe kiss and touch that look away from him.

But right now he can’t. 

“The dream or the actual accident?” Dan says, looking down into his lap.

It lacks the humour he’d been hoping to convey but his voice is just too flat to carry it through. He looks up and it seems Phil is thinking the same thing. His hand comes to cup at Dan’s cheek, his thumb runs across his cheekbone every so lightly.

It’s a comforting gesture.

“The dream felt real,” Dan whispers. He feels so vulnerable all of a sudden, even though it’s only Phil.

It’s only Phil, who’s seen him stripped down bare in every sense in the last ten years. But this is new. This is something different for the both of them.

“It was like I was there again and it was scary. I don’t think I processed how terrifying it was the first time around and the dream…” he trails off.

“The dream just heightened those feelings.”

Phil is looking at him, his eyes flicker over his face, and in the dim light of the night it’s a little harder to see but Dan is able to notice the weight of his look, and how unsure he looks with just his eyes.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Phil croaks. It sounds like he’s on the cusp of crying, and Dan knows if he starts crying, he’s sure to start again too.

He takes his free hand and takes Phil’s hand away from his face to hold it in his lap, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I was so scared, Phil,” he says in a quiet voice, it doesn’t even sound like him inside his own head. “I thought I was gonna die.”

He sees Phil take in a shuddery breath, like he’s bracing himself. He tries to smile, something comforting at least.

“When the hospital called me,” Phil says. “I thought it wasn’t real,” his voice starts to crack and eyes glisten with unfallen tears.

“Dan,” he says as his bottom lip starts to tremble. “I got in that taxi and I was just hoping you’d be okay.”

He sniffs and Dan catches the first tear that falls with a quick swipe of his thumb as his own tears start to build up behind his eyes.

“And I was thinking,” he carries on, “what my last words to you were that morning.”

That’s what makes his tears fall. They’re silent, slipping down his face and he makes no effort to stop them, blinking as the roll down his face, chest aching.

“But you’re okay,” Phil says in a raspy voice, “and you’re here now and I know it’s a bit shit with your leg, but I’m so glad. It could have been so much worse.”

Dan lets out a heavy breath and nods. His hot chocolate may be growing colder as time passes but right now he has an unmatchable warmth in his chest from the tone of Phil’s voice as well as the love his has etched into his face.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Dan whispers.

Phil leans forward, carefully and slowly and presses a kiss to his nose. 

“Don’t be sorry, silly,” he whispers, breath tickling his skin. “I’m so glad you’re okay and I just love you a lot.”

He pulls away and Dan grins at him. 

“I love you too,” he whispers before he’s letting out an awkward laugh, more tears fall.

“We’re such saps, aren’t we?”

Phil’s laughing too, wiping away his own tears.

“We are. But it’s okay, because I kinda enjoy being a sap with you.”

Dan’s chest is still overflowing with that happy warmth that touches him down to his core.

“Does that mean you’re gonna wait on me, hand and foot whilst I get used to those bloody stupid crutches?”

Phil snorts a laugh, head tipping back a little and it makes Dan grin harder to see him look so genuinely happy, even in such a crappy time.

“As long as you promise you’re gonna get big, buff arms from using them for the next month or so,” he teases with a wiggle of his brows.

Dan doesn’t have enough energy to properly give him a well deserved smack, and instead he’s brushing Phil’s arm with his hand before craning his neck to bury his face into Phil’s chest.

A hand comes up to touch at his back, fingertips dance over his shirt and make little patterns there. 

It’s grounding and loving.

“Dan?” Phil asks in a small voice.

Dan already feels like he could fall asleep here despite the fact he knows he has to get up soon and get back into bed before he ends up with a crick in his neck and back - extra added pain he doesn’t need right now.

The long day and the drugs are starting to make him sleepy once again now that the bad dream from earlier had bled away from him.

“Hm?” He hums. 

Phil’s wrapping his arms around him, tight and secure.

“Promise me you’re gonna be okay?” He says. “Even if you can’t really promise.”

Dan smiles, even though Phil can’t see it, he’s sure he can feel it. He nuzzles his head deeper into his chest where he can hear the faint tapping of his heart against his chest. That heart he loves and adores so, so much.

“I promise,” Dan whispers. “I’ll do my best.”

Phil hums, sounding sleepy and content. “Good,” he whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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